


heaven and hell were words to me

by camdotcom



Category: Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fluff, M/M, SnowBaz, Whump, dude theyre so cute i don’t know what to say, i don’t have an excuse for making this, i guess?? i’m not an expert, whump??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-23 00:23:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20883110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camdotcom/pseuds/camdotcom
Summary: post wayward son oneshot!! let’s pretend that there’s absolutely no emergency at watford and everything’s totally fine. i listened to almost solely hozier while writing this hence the title. literally just fluff i’m too emotionally wrecked for anything else.also this is absolutely not edited at all i’m a savage





	heaven and hell were words to me

BAZ

I really can't win. It's a running theme.  
We’re on our way back to England, and halfway through the flight I swear I'm going to bite Shepard and drain him dry. The guy will not shut up.  
But every time my fangs pop down after one of his idiotic questions, Simon squeezes my hand, and I will then back up. I'm terrified of having a conversation with him. I'm not entirely sure where we stand, relationship wise. He's been holding my hand the whole plane ride, but he also looks scared like a little kid. I understand, though. I'm just more practiced in hiding my emotions, I suppose.  
I don't know what time it is when Simon sets his head on my shoulder, but it can't have been an hour into the flight. I lean my head on his, and I'm so ecstatic I'm hardly sure that I can fall asleep. But I do, not even five minutes later.  
When I wake up, Simon isn't there. The odd dream I'd had immediately scatters. Logically, I know he's just gone to the restroom. But some part of me panics. Lucky bastard had the window seat. I'm not even sure how he wriggled past me.  
Penelope's on my other side. I turn to her and she smiles tiredly. Shepard is fast asleep.  
"Where's Simon?" I ask.  
"Bathroom," she replies softly, careful not to wake the Normal.  
I go to check my watch, but it must've gotten lost along with the rest of my things. My parents truly are going to stake me.  
Just as I begin to drift off again, Simon slips past me and into his seat.  
"There you are," I say. I grab his hand and intertwine our fingers. I couldn't be bothered by who's looking. I need his warmth. "I was worried sick."  
"I'm fine, love." He leans over and kisses my cheek. I decide I'm still dreaming. "I had a movie on earlier. You would have liked it."  
"I disagree," I say. He looks all gold and bronze, even when he's dead tired and cooped up in a plane. I imagine him going on a plane when he still had magic, trying so hard not to go off. I laugh lowly.  
"What's so funny?" He asks. I tell him. He laughs too. His sounds more strained than mine.  
"I think I like you better this way."  
"What way? Normal?"  
I nod and look down to our hands. "Before, I could barely look at you. And Crowley, I wanted to. You were more magic than human. The power radiating off of you burned my sinuses."  
"I don't have any of that anymore."  
"Thank magic," I say, and I mean it. "We'd never have survived. We barely did as it is. Now you're not the Chosen One. You're just Simon. And Simon's the one I love."  
"You used to call me Snow." His lips are upturned.  
"I prefer Simon, don't you?" He smiles for real. And I think I'm going to kiss him. Or maybe he'll kiss me. I'm not really sure. I'm not sure of a lot of things anymore.  
"Yes, Basil. I prefer Simon."  
I groan, and he's such a tease. I can't wait until we're home and I can have fun with him properly. Just conversations. With Simon. Simon Snow. My boyfriend. Just thinking it makes my heart skip a beat. And I'm not entirely sure that's even possible.  
"...Baz?"  
"Yes, love?"  
Simon goes an incredible shade of red. He licks his lips and swallows hard. There's a mole on his neck. My fangs beg to come out. I pull them back.  
"Baz," he repeats. "I'm sorry. For how I've been. This whole past year."  
"You don't have to apologize—"  
"Yes, I do."  
"—in the middle of our flight. If it makes you happy, I'll take a lengthy apology tomorrow. At home. For now, you should sleep. There's going to be a hell of a commotion, and no one can handle that tired."  
"I can," he says, but he yawns.  
"I know, love." I'm drifting off even as I say it. 

SIMON

I'm not really used to Baz being so overprotective. It only really happened after the Humdrum, but I've never seen him so distraught. It just had to be on a plane.  
The landing is fine. Baz is asleep. I'm not. He'd be mad at me if he wasn't completely knocked out. I don't blame him. If my nerves weren't so frayed, I'd be passed out cold.  
Having to wake him up is the worst. He's usually a light sleeper, but he puts up a fight this time.  
When he does wake up, he looks absolutely terrified until he meets my eyes. He's rarely so frantic. It's concerning.  
But we make it through customs just fine. And the cab ride home. Well, to Penny and mine. Baz comes with us. He's holding my hand like we'll both die if he lets go. We all cram in the backseat with Shepard in the front, reminiscent of the endeavours across America. I'd never even heard of Nebraska.  
Penelope and I exchange glances once we've all piled in—I'm in the middle so Baz can still hold on. I'm on edge a bit more because of our intertwined fingers, but Penny and Shepard should be enough to ward off anyone who takes a second glance. I'd be terrified of Penny if I hadn't known her since we were 12.  
When I look at her, she looks afraid, too. She has on that look she only gets when she thinks about her mother staking her through, and sometimes when she thought she'd done poorly on an exam (poorly being still top of the class).  
But I'm not worried about Baz's parents, or even Penny's. I'm worried about Baz. Is this what I was like after the Humdrum? I don't remember much from around then. The whole month after is a blur.  
But I do remember all that Baz did for me. I suppose it's my turn. Penny will have her hands full with Shepard—keeping him from her mother, mostly. Lucky for me, Baz's parents already hate me, so I don't have to worry about that.  
Penny unlocks the door to our flat, and we all practically fall inside. Even Shepard, who was consistently in the least danger, collapses over the side of the couch. And he was asleep practically the whole flight!  
"Shepard?" I ask, and he looks up weakly. It's pitiable. "Have you ever been out of America before?"  
He gives a did definitive shake of the head. "I'll take the couch. Unless it's already taken?"  
"Go ahead," Penny says, stumbling towards her room. She's wearing her alternate pair of clothes, but we all seem to be wearing a thin layer of grime. There's a bathroom attached to Penny's room that she no doubt takes immediate advantage of.  
"Shepard," I say, and he stands up this time, though he still leans heavily on the couch. "There's a bathroom down the hall and on the left. Towels under the sink. Be quick, I've still got to take care of him." I gesture vaguely at Baz. A bath will either wake him up or put him to sleep, which are both viable options.  
Shepard nods, wandering lawlessly down the hall. I decide that it's best to bring Baz to my room. He's trying to keep himself upright, but he couldn't come up with a witty reply if it fell out of the sky and hit him in the face right now. So I have him lean on me as we go down to my room.  
It's our room, really. Baz technically lives with his aunt, but he spends most nights here anyway. He's got his own part of the wardrobe and everything. He's got most of the wardrobe, honestly.  
I have him lie him down on my bed, but he's suddenly awake, at least awake enough to sit up and grab my hand. I was going to turn around and change, but when I look at him he's got that look on. His eyes have gone soft and he's got on a goofy smile. It's the way he smiles when he thinks I'm not looking.  
But I'm looking now.  
I see him.  
I love him.  
I squeeze his hand. He blinks long, and I'm afraid he's going to fall back asleep. But his eyes open, focused solely on me.  
"Simon," he says, and his smile widens. "Simon Snow."  
"Yes?" I say, but it's like he's forgotten I'm there.  
"How did we both make it out of this again?" He shakes his head. His black curls are tangled, but they still flow over his shoulders gorgeously. "I don't know how we manage it."  
"I'd never let anything happen to you." As I say it, I cringe. He got shot, twice, on my watch. I don't know if he blames me. He should.  
Baz is about to speak, but the bathroom door creaks open. I pull Baz up, and he leans into me gratefully. We're so close, touching in so many spots, I can almost forget how bad we smell.  
As Baz and I go out into the hall, Shepard walks out of the bathroom. His hair is soaked, and he's dripping all over the place. He's had the decency to put on his old jeans, but he hasn't got a shirt on yet. Penny would go ballistic if she saw. I tell him so.  
"Just trying to dry off," he drawls, and it's so odd. I've never consistently been around someone with an American accent. So odd.  
I brush him off and focus on herding Baz into the bathroom. We stumble in, and Baz takes it upon himself to sit on the edge of the bath. I suddenly realize that Baz and I'll be fully naked in front of each other. For the first time, really.  
"Thinkin' about me naked, are you?" Baz says, and I playfully shake my head. It's infuriating how he does that sometimes. "If it's any consolation, I'm thinking the same."  
"It's no consolation at all," I reply. "We've both almost died a few times in the last week. That's certainly not what I'm focused on."  
I walk up to him, fiddling with his shirt. There's so many buttons. Would it kill him to wear a t-shirt? (I'd honestly be surprised if he even owned a t-shirt. But I suppose he's got jeans, so anything's possible.)  
I get to the final button, and he shrugs off his shirt and tosses it aside. I feel my face get red, but ignore it and start unbuckling his belt.  
"I can undress myself, Snow."  
"No, it's okay—"  
"I'm fine, Simon. Take a step back, I can do this."  
And right then I know it's not about competition or anything. He wants to be able to do something for himself.  
So I let him. 

BAZ

Simon is such a mess.  
Protective Simon is probably a new favorite of mine. How does he still manage to be so insecure?  
I offer to take off my own clothes, and he refuses, obviously. Idiot.  
So I lean forwards and I kiss him. He's close enough. It's short, but it shocks him enough that I can work off my own belt. I wriggle out of my jeans, and then I'm sitting in a bathroom in front of Simon Snow in just my pants. In another life, this would have been a dream come true.  
I kiss him again. It would have been better if I wasn't dead tired. But Simon tangles his fingers in my hair, pulling me closer.  
I break. "Simon," I say, and his face is flushed. "Could you please start the water?"  
His face. This idiot. He looks as though he's suddenly remembered what he was supposed to be doing. He lunged and hurriedly draws a bath.  
I go to take off my boxers, but when I glance at Simon he won't meet my eyes.  
"You don't have to be here," I say, and he finally looks at me.  
"Yes I do." He says it like it's a fact, but he turns away. I hold back a laugh.  
I take off my pants and slip into the water. It sloshed over the side and onto the mat. I'm barely sitting down when Snow chirps up.  
"You in?" He asks. He sounds like a kid with his hands over his eyes at a horror movie. It's adorable.  
"Yes, love."

SIMON

I don't know what I was expecting to happen. But it wasn't this.  
I'm sitting on one side of the bath, my arm up on the ledge. Baz's fingers are intertwined with mine, but it's a loose hold. It feels so good. To finally not feel like we have to hold on so tight. To know that we're not going to let go, even though it would be so easy to.  
Baz lies his head on my shoulder and I die inside. His locks spill over my shoulder and chest. My heart is so full.  
His hand is wet. So are the tips of his hair. But I couldn't care less. This right here is why I never broke up with him. Sure, I could never get up the courage. But I don't know if I could bear not having moments like this anymore.  
Shepard knocks on the door. "Did you both drown in there or something?"  
Baz looks over, and I can tell his fangs have slid down. I nudge his arm a little and squeeze his hand. He grimaces, but pulls them back.  
“Fuck off!” I call back, and I hear footsteps receding. Baz chuckles, but I can tell he’s wiped. I squeeze his hand again. He grins up at me. I look down at our hands, and he starts rubbing circles on the back of mine.  
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I remember that he’s naked, and actually in the bath.  
“I should probably leave you to it, then,” I say, but I don’t move to get up. He holds my hand a little tighter. I don’t want to leave. 

BAZ

I don’t want him to leave. 

SIMON

There’s something about Baz’s hands that make me sit there next to him.  
And his hair.  
And his chest.  
He definitely notices how much I’m ogling him.

BAZ

He’s ogling. I don’t mind, really. Or at least I wouldn’t mind if we were anywhere else. My head is down on his shoulder, but I can feel his eyes on me.  
“I’ve got an idea,” I say. I pick my head up and Simon turns to face me. “What if I finish my bath, then I’ll meet you in your room?”  
“Meet me for what?” I swear he gulps.  
“I can barely stay awake as it is, Simon. Just sleep.”  
“In my bed?”  
“In your bed.” Our bed, I think, but it’s semantics.  
“Will there be kissing?” And he looks nervous. And I’m looking at his lips. Then those blue, blue eyes.  
“Do you want there to be?”  
He gulps again. Damn Simon Snow and his neck. “I do.”  
So I kiss him. He puts his other hand on my cheek and Crowley, he’s so warm. I think I’ve cooled down one of his hands, but the rest of him is as warm as ever.  
“Then I’ll finish quick,” I say, and he smiles. It’s goofy and reckless. I smile back.  
Simon leaves, and I take one of the fastest showers of my life, considering the circumstances. I swear I’m rubbing dirt out of my scalp. Once my hair is sufficiently less of a mess, I turn off the water and grab aimlessly for a towel. I wrap the towel around my waist and ring out my hair over the sink. I grab my pile of clothes.  
It’s so cold outside. The hot steam billows out of the bathroom behind me. I cross the living room.  
Shepard is sitting on the sofa, flipping through channels and looking about as bored as possible. Bunce’s door is open, but only barely. Someone’s had enough of the Normal today.  
I open Simon’s door nonchalantly, trying to conceal the giddy excitement building in my chest. I’ve hardly touched Simon these past few months. We’ve kissed more in the past 24 hours than the last 6 months.  
Simon’s waiting for me when I get there. He’s looking at his mobile, but he turns it off when he sees me. He’s taken off his shirt and opened a window.  
“Took you long enough,” he says as he comes over. He presses a chaste kiss to my lips. Bloody tease.  
I toss aside my pile of ruined clothes. Simon immediately put his hands on my chest, pushing me back against the wall at the foot of his bed. He reaches up for my mouth and catches it, pressing a needy kiss to my lips.  
“Calm down, Simon. I’m not even wearing pants.”  
Simon backs down and rests his head on my shoulder. He kisses the skin there.  
“I love you,” he says, but it’s muffled.  
“Hmm?” I muse, though of course I heard what he said. It would be absolutely no fun if I didn’t tease him every once in a while.  
“I said I love you, you prick.” He looks up at me and tries to pout, but I’m smiling down at him and he can’t seem to help but smile back.  
“I love you, too,” I say, and I kiss him. “But I’ve really got to put some clothes on before Bunce stakes me through.”  
“She wouldn’t.”  
“Clearly you don’t know Penelope as well as you think,” I say, and Simon shoves me playfully. He’s still got a smile.  
I throw on my old football jersey and a pair of boxers I stored away here. I steal a pair of Simon’s joggers. I have an extra jersey at Fiona’s. I really ought to bring it over here for him to wear. I think I’d die, seeing him in my jersey.  
“I missed you,” I said. Simon’s face screws up  
“You’re here every day.”  
“I mean, you weren’t really you. You were so out of it half of the time, anyway. We’ve held hands more today than in the last couple of months.”  
“Just because I’m feeling down doesn’t make me not me.”  
“That’s not what I’m saying.” I scrunch up my face, trying to pick my words right. “You weren’t the Simon I know. And there’s nothing wrong with that. You went through a huge trauma and that’s what happens. But I like you better when you’re not laying facedown on the sofa all day.”  
“I like us,” Simon says, and my heart nearly explodes. I could kiss him right now.  
“Me too,” I say, and then I do kiss him.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for how long this is?? this completely managed to get away from me i don’t know how this happened. thank you for reading!! please tell me if you want more because i’m completely ready and willing


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